Song: House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco
The room was extravagantly opulent, with towering stone columns inlaid with intricate, golden filigree and floor-to-ceiling bay windows framed with thick, golden tapestries. One wall was entirely ensconced under deep bookshelves, arching over the Rococo-style doorway from one wall to the other. A grand piano, stark white, sat in the care of those pretentious windows.
Cool stone travertine floors, covered in plush rugs in weaving patterns, hued in the same satin ivory and brilliant gold as nearly everything else. Sideboards, buffets, ottomans, and a solid oak armoire were scattered tastefully throughout, bedecked with all manner of trinkets and heirlooms. A sitting area was arranged around a grandiose fireplace, meant for entertaining more than warmth.
Dominating the massive, glittering space was a king-size four poster bed right in the middle, directly opposite the door. My eyes, however, weren't interested in any of the ostentatious decadence on display. No, the only thing that could hold my gaze in this monstrosity of a prison cell was the absolute beauty that lay splayed across the end of the goose down duvet.
Her thick, brown hair was spilling over the edge of the mattress, a waterfall of espresso I would happily drown myself in. Her eyes, transitioning from vermilion more towards burnt orange in thirst, were narrowed while they skimmed a hefty sheaf of papers.
Her skin was softly luminous in the ambient sunlight streaming through the windows, serving to accentuate the dismayed pucker of her luscious, full lips.
I lay on my side, curling myself into her statuesque frame, fingers drawing idle patterns across her bare thighs and abdomen. She wore only a loose linen camisole, the goldenrod color accentuating the pallor of her still-fresh immortality, and black lacy panties. I enjoyed skimming my fingers over the top, pulling slightly, right under her navel. Exulting in the minuscule hitch of breath I was coaxing from her even in her state of deep concentration.
Bella's brow furrowed, growing ever-more aggrieved. I let out a low chuckle, causing her to glance up at me with a mulish expression. "That good?" I queried.
She sighed, absentmindedly flipping the pile of documents and sending them skittering across one of the damask rugs. "It's always the same with Aro. Bargaining, haggling, pressing his decrepit luck. As if he thinks baubles and gems are enough compensation for ten years of unwilling servitude."
I smiled wanly, glad she still saw things this way. But it had already been just over a year since Aro had given his dire ultimatum: Bella was to be changed, right there and then, and we owed them ten years of service for breaking the rules. It was that, or death for us all. Alice and I agreed: death would be far preferable. Bella, however, had been true to form and far less amenable to this solution.
In that year, Bella had began to change. She was growing colder, more callous. I could see bitter resentment eating at her at having left her father with no more than a note that she would explain when she got home. How that gnawing anger had warped into grief at never being allowed any sort of farewell. Horror that my family had been forced to relocate with us, lest the wrath of Forks descend upon them for her disappearance.
The potent, but pent up, emotions were eroding the fabric of who she was, morphing her more each day. She was less erratic, narrowing into cool calculation. Compassionate empathy started to twist into cynicism and spite.
It was only with me that I ever saw the old Bella, the real, true girl that was still kind, gentle, and inquisitive. Our only reprieve was my family, particularly Carlisle's patient demeanor, and the allowance we were given to maintain our diet and lifestyle. I was far older, more immune to Aro's malicious intent; Bella and was not. His oppressive use of Bella's gift to serve his family and their conquests was starting to influence her more and more.
An insistent knock came, rapping thrice in a manner that said the visit was not cordial or to be ignored. Sighing wearily, I bid Felix entry - as if we had a choice. "Edward. Bella. Aro requests your presence in the throne room." He left without another word.
Naturally, another assignment. With my ability to read minds and Bella's unerring shield, he hardly had need to send the entire contingent for many months now.
I drew another line across my beloved's skin, trailing up her knee, caressing across her thigh, before hooking my hand in the top of her underwear. She smiled, leaning up to kiss me with ardent fervor. "That," Bella said, "will have to wait. Heaven knows Aro won't."
I moved my hand to curl around her hip, pulling her to straddle me. "Heaven is right here, love." I convinced her to ignore Aro's summons for quite some time.